The rain was coming down in buckets outside, or at least that's what his uncle Alvin said. AJ could not exactly see any buckets falling from the sky outside when he looked out over the large yard that afternoon. Thunder purred in the distance while the heavy plops of rain drops fell against the driveway and smacked against the glass of the windows.

The six-year-old sighed and set his head down over his crossed arms. Today was supposed to be a nice day to go to the zoo, Uncle Theodore had said earlier. He had suggested the idea before the clouds had even rolled in. He and Auntie Eleanor planned on taking AJ and his twin cousins out for the day while his Auntie Brittany cleaned the house; Uncle Alvin would be out working at the police department.

But then the rain began to fall around lunch time and Uncle Alvin came back home early due to having yet another miserable morning at the stationAJ knew that his uncle had difficulty getting along with most policemen and women due to the "gift" he had. He said they were afraid of what he could do, and therefore treated him differently when he was not singing for The Chipmunks. It frustrated him so he would go to the race tracks and spend time with his pit crew or else return home to play some music; music always calmed him down.

Coming home soaked and wet did nothing to improve his mood. AJ had greeted him cheerfully upon entering the house, but the chipmunk simply grumbled in reply, hastily rubbed the boy's head and then walked off to the music room to be alone. Uncle Theodore and his pet Mia went to join him shortly.

Eleanor walked around the corner and smiled at the boy as he continued to stare up at the sky. "Would you like a snack, AJ?" she asked, just as the boy raised his head and looked at her. "I was just making your Uncle Alvin a sandwich. Did you want one too?"

"No thank you, Auntie," the child replied. "I'm not hungry." Just as she turned to leave, he pulled himself away from the windowsill. "Is Uncle Alvin still mad?" he asked meekly.

"Because I wanna play a video game with him. David's still grounded because he made a mess in the garage Tuesday, and Claire's boring when she plays races with me. She thinks I dunno how to play, so she goes easy on me. And that makes it boring."

Eleanor giggled at this before looking down the hallway. "I could ask him if you want," she said. "But he might still need to relax. Your Uncle Teddy's been trying to make him feel better for a while now."

AJ sighed and slid down onto the couch until his chin was resting on his chest. "Where's Papa?" he asked.

At these words, he saw his Aunt quickly look away. Unease filled her brown eyes and AJ knew why; for the past few months now, it had been a whirlwind of turmoil for his papa. Ever since he had been rushed to the hospital because of serious depression, the other grownups had found it quite difficult to tell when or when not to speak to him. And ever since the accident last spring, he had been, as Uncle Alvin said, "slowly going downhill." It had been so bad at first that Simon had gone all the way to blaming Alvin for not being able to stop the accident from happening. Luckily, that phase of dark feelings had passed; unfortunately, Simon's depression had only but begun. He may have forgiven his brother, but it did not change what had taken place.

AJ had not understood everything that had been taking place at the time, but knew enough to know that his Aunts and Uncles were still trying to help his father adjust to his new life. Alvin had even made Simon take a leave of absence from work. That meant that Simon would stay at home during the day instead of work at the bank or at the university. Alvin, as well as AJ's Grandpa Dave, even decided that recording songs and performing would be postponed until Simon was feeling better and adjusting to his medication.

So wherever he was in the house at the moment, he was undoubtedly in a bad moodwhich was why Eleanor looked away when AJ asked of his whereabouts. She had tried numerous times to cheer AJ's Papa up, but to no avail. He would either ignore her or snap until she left. It had gotten so bad that Uncle Theodore had told her to simply let Simon be until he was ready to have company.

"I I don't know where he is, AJ," she squeaked.

AJ continued to stare at her a moment longer before turning onto his stomach and carefully sliding off of the couchhe was still too short to reach the floor without hurting himself. "Did he take his Heart Healer?" he asked. This was what AJ called his father's medication. When he wanted to avoid saying words that frightened him, he either used a substitute or made something up.

Eleanor had already grown accustomed to the boy's vocabulary. "Not since this morning," she said. "At least I don't think so."

"Can I take it to him then?" He figured that if he had an excuse to go see his papa, then maybe Simon would want his company.

Eleanor was onto his little game. Her smile reflected pity as she nodded her head. "It's on the counter where your vitamins are," she said as she left. "Take the bottle with you but only give him one, okay?"

"Yes, Ma'am," the six-year-old replied.

"And be careful not to drop them. It's an expensive bottle."

"Yes, Ma'am." Attempting not to trip over his extra long navy blue sweater, AJ waddled into the kitchen and moved the stepping stool in place in order to reach for his father's medication. The bottle was white with a blue lid on itthe name Seville, Simon was written on its side, although that was all AJ bothered to read; he had not yet gotten skilled enough to read anything else. If he recognized his father's name, he knew he had found the right bottle.

Snatching it like a hawk snatches its prey, AJ leaped off of the stepping stool, grabbed a glass, filled it with orange juiceUncle Alvin always gave Simon orange juice with his medicationand waddled off up the stairs, once again careful not to trip over his clothes.

There were children giggles in his Auntie Brittany's and Uncle Alvin's bedroom. While passing it by, he suspected that the Chipette was busy playing another board game with the twins. AJ was disappointed they had not asked him to join, but then remembered what he had come to do and went on his way.

He looked in his Papa's officeempty. He even dared to peek in his mama's sewing roomnothing had been moved since last Spring, so he quickly turned away from it. Both he and Simon had avoided the room for months.

Bathroom, video game room, even his Uncle Theodore's and Auntie Eleanor's room. AJ had purposely left his Papa's room for last, perhaps because he subconsciously knew he would be there but wanted to avoid itdespite wanting to find his Papa, he was also afraid to arrive.

The door was opened just a crack, which made it easier for the boy to open it without letting go of the medication and the juice. The door creaked as it opened and AJ took two steps into the dark room. Nothing had been disturbed, save the bed that was still unmadeSimon had gotten in the habit of not making his bed. His cousin David said that it was because he started getting lazy; his cousin Claire said it was because he started forgetting. But AJ knew why he stopped doing it: it had been the first thing every morning that his Papa did with his Mama. They would make the bed together before going to work in their carSimon would drop Jeanette off at the library and he would drive to the bank or the university. Even if making the bed was a simple and meaningless task, Simon had begun to avoid doing it because he had to do it alone.

AJ allowed his eyes to adjust to the darkness before being able to recognize a familiar silhouette sitting in the cushioned windowsill at the back of the room, head against the glass as the rain continued to smack against it from the outside. The chipmunk had his arms held out straight over his knees, playing with something small between his fingerssomething AJ guessed to be his Mama's wedding ring. He did not seem the least bit concerned with who had come in the room, which told AJ that he was still in a gloomy mood; he was not ready to enjoy someone's company.

But AJ raised his chin and puffed up his chest. His Papa wouldn't mind if he came in. Uncle Alvin did say that AJ was his Papa's little guardian angel, right? That meant that if anyone could make Simon feel better, it would be him. AJ never took responsibilities like this lightly. Especially if it meant to please either of his parents.

He took a few steps into the room and was about to greet his papa when his foot tripped over the sweater that dragged over the floor. AJ gasped quickly as he fell forward to the ground and landed with a thud, his large glasses bouncing off of his muzzle. He hardly paid any attention to his lost glasses though, because he was more focused on the blurry yet dark splash of liquid that now stained the carpet, right next to a glass that had a giant piece chipped out of it. And sitting in the pool of spilt orange juice was the tablet bottle, cap off and its contents out over the floor.

AJ gasped again, this time in great horror, and then let out a loud whimper as tears filled his eyes. "Oh no, oh no, oh no, no, noooo," he cried, raising himself to his knees and reaching for the pills. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry " He felt something sharp prick his left hand, making him squeak in pain and pull it back, but hardly a second later did he continued to try and pick up the blue and white capsules. Tears trickled down his cheeks, making his blurry vision even more so. "No, no, no," he sobbed.

Quiet footsteps made their way across the room to him, and AJ immediately snatched up his head to see a fuzzy silhouette looming over him. He cried harder and continued to pick up the pills. "I'm sorry, Papa, I didn't mean to spill your Heart Healers," he said. "I just wanted to bring one up to you in case you didn't take one. Auntie Eleanor told me not to spill them because they're expensive, and I spilled everything, even your orange juice. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Papa, I didn't mean it, honest " He sobbed on and on, apologizing for his clumsiness, replied by nothing but silence for sometimes afterwards.

Then he saw two hands reach down and grab his own. They gently scraped the soggy pills out of the boy's one hand before moving to the next and inspecting what AJ believed to be a cut. He sniffed and wiped his eyes. "I'm sorry, please don't be mad at me," he squeaked.

The two hands moved to wrap around his waist next. "Ssshhh," came his father's voice, as he scooped AJ up and held him in his arms. He reached out for the boy's glasses before finally rising from his squat and holding the tiny chipmunk against his chest. "It's okay, AJ."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," AJ continued to apologize as his father carried him into the small bathroom at the back of the room.

The light was turned on and AJ winced at the brightness before Simon set him down on the counter next to the sink. The Chipmunk then knelt down and opened a door beneath the counter, pulling out a first aid kit.

AJ sniffed and wiped his tears again until he felt his glasses being placed over his nose. Raising his right hand, he helped his father put them in place and finished wiping away tears before finally looking at the grownup.

Simon did not seem to notice AJ staring at him. In fact, while the man grabbed AJ's left hand and began cleaning the mess of blood over it, it seemed as though his Papa hardly took any notice of anything around him at all, including the presence of his son. AJ had seen his eyes cloud over this badly many times before. They darkened, remained downcast, never looking anyone in the eye, almost as though attempting to forget anything or anyone else existed. It was like how AJ pretended not to see the bullies at school and hope that they didn't see him either. He did not like seeing eyes like this, especially his father's. It had been a very long time since the last time his father had looked at him longer than a few seconds.

Simon pulled some small pinchers out of the first aid kit and held up AJ's hand. With an expressionless face, he reached down over the boy's palm and began pulling a sharp shard of glass out from the cut. AJ cringed in pain and tried not to pull his hand away, afraid that his father would snap at him if he did.

Once the piece had been removed, Simon carefully cleaned the cut and then bandaged it until AJ's entire left hand resembled that of a mummy's. Then, he silently put the first aid kit away beneath the sink, stood up without a word and left the bathroom.

AJ watched him leave and leaned forward to see better until deciding to follow. He scooted his bum over the counter until he had reached the toilet, carefully slid off until his feet were over the toilet lid and then jumped off onto the floor. Stumbling once, he ran into the dark room and stopped a few feet away from the window where his father had returned. It hardly seemed as though Simon had even changed positions at all.

The boy wiggled his toes before deciding to speak up. "I'm sorry I made a mess, Papa," he whispered.

Simon did not reply, nor did he turn his head.

"I could clean it up if you!"

"Ask your Uncle Theodore to do it later," Simon said, again without looking at his son.

AJ played with his fingers for a few seconds, not saying a word, before attempting to speak once more. "Papa, did you!"

"Papa wants to be alone, Alvin," Simon interrupted again, this time with a tone that sounded as though he was speaking through a lump in his throat. The chipmunk wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his head on his knees. "Please go away."

AJ had never heard his father ask him to go away. It almost hurt more than the cut on his hand did. AJ placed one foot on the other, trying not to let his chin tremble as tears climbed up to his eyes again. "But I wanna help," he said.

Simon did not reply right away. He remained immobile before hugging his legs tighter and taking a shaky breath. "I don't want to be helped right now," he said.

AJ silenced a squeak that reached his lips and then wiped a stray tear from his cheek. Putting on a brave face, he disobeyed his father for the first time and walked over to the windowsill instead of leaving the room. His father never looked up when the six-year-old clumsily climbed onto the cushions, nearly falling twice. The boy groaned with the effort of sitting up properly and only stopped moving once he was sitting on his knees, facing his papa. Without waiting to see if the pianist would rebuke his aid again, he leaned forward and said, in his meek voice, " Do you want to be loved instead then?"

It seemed as though Simon had ceased to breathe at that very moment. While the rain continued to smack against the window and the sun shed what light it could through the dark clouds, AJ watched as his papa slowly raised his head until his eyes had finally locked gazes with his son's. This time, AJ could tell that his papa wanted to see himinstead of the blankness he had so often seen since the accident, he could see every bit of pain his father was feeling at that moment in those grey-blue eyes. Loss, loneliness, sorrow and despairall the emotions his Uncle Alvin said someone depressed felt.

But he also saw hope; or a sliver of that. It was as if hope was trying with all its might to push back the emptiness of depression, but without any help, it would be but a dying flame in a hurricane. He did not want to be left alone, AJ realized; he wanted to get out of that pit of despair.

Simon stared at him in silence, never speaking, hardly blinking. AJ teetered from side to side, and placed his hands on his feet once he decided to cross his legs, and tilted his head to one side before finally smiling pitifully at his father. He had learned since his earliest years that his uncles and his father needed a bit of music in their hardest days. His Uncle Alvin did go to the music room when he was upset, just as he was now. Maybe what his Papa needed right now was a song. And AJ knew a few which his mama used to sing to him when he was upset. There was one in particular he knew would do the trick.

Finding the tune in his heart, AJ opened his mouth and began to sing:

Another day has almost come and gone Can't imagine what else could go wrong Sometimes I'd like to hide away somewhere and lock the door A single battle lost but not the war ('cause)

Tomorrow's another day And I'm thirsty anyway So bring on the rain

He swayed from side to side as he sang, never taking his eyes off of his papa's.

And Simon never took his eyes off of his son.

It's almost like the hard times circle 'round A couple drops and they all start coming down Yeah, I might feel defeated, And I might hang my head

Tomorrow's another day And I'm thirsty anyway So bring on the rain

He admitted that he was not as great a singer as either of his uncles or his papa, but AJ enjoyed singing nevertheless. He knew as much as any Seville that music and singing ran in the family. It had been a known cure to any blues since before he was born.

And the more he sang, the more he saw the hope in his father's eyes grow. A light sparked and slowly brought his dull grey eyes to life again. Tears welled up in his eyes, almost as though it had been a long time since he had last cried.

A healthy cry, that is.

No I'm not gonna let it get me down I'm not gonna cry And I'm not gonna lose any sleep tonight ('cause)

Tomorrow's another day And I am not afraid So bring on the rain

AJ hummed sweetly, and never stopped singing, even when tears began to slide down his father's cheeks.

Tomorrow's another day And I'm thirsty anyway So bring on the rain

Simon bit his lip and finally reached out for his son. AJ allowed himself to be lifted from his place on the cushion and pulled towards his papa until Simon had him against his heart. He wrapped his arms tightly around the six-year-old, resting his head on the boy's and cried as he rocked back and forth with him. And all this time, AJ continued to sing.

(Bring on, bring on the rain) No, not gonna let it get me down I'm not gonna cry So bring on the rain (Bring on, bring on the rain) (Bring on the rain, Bring on the rain)

He placed his arms tightly around his papa's waist and his ear against his chest, listening to his heart beat through the sobs that came from his mouth. AJ never liked hearing his papa cry, but he knew that this cry had to come out. It was a cry that had been locked away for a long time, and like the sky had to sometimes pour out in so-called buckets, AJ figured that it was important that a heart emptied itself now and again as well.

He closed his eyes and snuggled against his father's sweater. "Do you want me to go tell Uncle Theodore you need another bottle of Heart Healers, Papa?" he whispered.

Simon had fallen silent by now, but he only hugged his son tighter. "Stay here," he replied, stroking AJ's head. "Please stay here, AJ. I need you here."

AJ opened his eyes and looked up at him momentarily until the sound of someone clearing their throat softly was heard. With a soft gasp, AJ stared across the room, just as he felt his father slowly raise his head and turn it.

Alvin, followed by Theodore, walked into the dark room, holding a blue mug in his hands. The red-clad chipmunk came to a stop by the window and sat down where AJ had once been while Theodore held out a cookie for the boy. Alvin held out the mug of coffee to his brother. "Might want something to warm you up though," he said in such a gentle tone it seemed out of character. As Simon quietly took a sip, the guitarist looked at his nephew. "You should stay here, AJ," he said. "Your dad needs you right now."

"Don't worry about the pills," Theodore added as Simon passed him the mug. "We'll take care of that tomorrow."

AJ nodded ever so slightly until his father wrapped his arms around him again. He closed his eyes and hugged him harder as his uncles began to hum the song he had just been singing.

Tomorrow was another day, and he had a feeling it would be a little easier for his papa to bearfor everyone to bear. It did not change what had happened last spring, but it was always easier to move on when you did not need to do so alone.

Link to chipmunk version of the song (thank you*kiki-kit for making it btw): [link]link to the actual song (WAY better than the chipmunk version of course --> [link]

No critiques please. I'm not ready for any critiques on my writing yet. Still trying to get over stuff from last year.

This may explain a few things. Like I said, the Chipmunks were the first characters I ever decided to practice writing about real life scenarios.

Heart Healers: AJ's word for Simon's anti-depressants.

Alvin's bad day at department: Before the chipmunks moved to Hearttropolis, they lived in L.A. Unfortunately, the people then weren't exactly warmed up to the idea of others having "actual superpowers," and while the people Simon and THeo worked with were more accepting, the people at the police department were more than a bit rude to Alvin, considering his gift was something that could be deemed "dangerous." The people on the race track liked it though, which is why he would often leave the police department just to go race.

Age: AJ turned six about a month or two before this story takes place. The actual Series I partially wrote takes place when he's eight and th twins are 11.

Ok, I need to not read this at almost 2am. My husband is deployed for the 3rd time (oh geeze, that kind of gives my age away. We were married WAY young), but this time is so much harder because we have a son now. And all I keep thinking about it "what if." and I can't sleep at night because of it (hence, why I'm up at almost 2am and my son wakes up at 7am every day). I'd be absolutely broken if he were to die over there. And to think my son would grow up without him..... This story was not something that helped with that fear. lol. It was really good though.

OMG-What a heart rending and very realistic story! It took me totally by surprise...you have a very definite ability to get the emotions going! I put in my faves (I couldn't finish reading it...my eyes were getting too blurred cause I was ready to bawl like crazy!)

...J-Jeanette? Noooo......As for the "Heart Healers"... I find they haven't helped me at all... no pill will change the fact that my sister's separated and cut off from all contact with me, or that I have no choice other than a shitty college that is so far below my abilities I cannot concentrate, so easy it's hard... or fix all the years of abuse...What's the plan, to zone Simon out on serotonin so he doesn't give a shit about anything anymore? I had to quit Zoloft because it was making me to lazy to write, to make my Chipmunks Parody Show videos, to do anything creative, to even shower...

Whoa, calm down. I wasn't trying to offend anyone with this story. If it bothered you that much, no need to comment that way. I'm sorry for what's happening, but I really had no intention on actually offending you with the story.

I'm not offended, I'm just pointing out what they do... well in my case they gave me this sort of fake happy, like you know still that you're depressed but you don't mind so much that you're depressed anymore, pretty much masking it, like how a depressed person wears a fake smile so others think they're happy, in this case you wear a fake smile on the inside so YOU think you're happy. But deep down you're confused because deep down on the inside you know you're not happy and your actions show it.That's why Simon still doesn't make his bed, pills or no pills...

I kind of did my research before writing this story, and I've heard different stories from various people. I don't tend to write about serious themes like this without getting some input and research done first. They don't all act the same way as you do towards it, but thank you anyway.

You're welcome... I find Adderall makes me happier though. It doesn't help my attention much, except by making it so that I'm not crying all the time. And I only take the TINIEST dose... and it lasts all day even though it's IR... if I took a higher dose like say 10 mg or more I fear it would make me seriously sick in the head from the overload of norepinephrine like Strattera did o_O

This is such a sweet and touching story! It made me cry, just like most of your stories. You really have a way at portraying emotions and relationships in your stories--it's always beautifully written. I'm not even a Chipmunks fan (they're adorable but I only watched the show occasionally as a kid) but between this and the other things you've been posting of them lately I'm pulled into this story universe you've created for them!